


The Woman Who Beat You

by KaiKai



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Light BDSM, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiKai/pseuds/KaiKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I always loved detective stories when I was a little girl. I used to read them for hours on end and try to solve the case before the end of the book, and it was no surprise when the habit of collecting clues followed me as I grew up. I had all of these secrets, but no one to play with. </p><p>And then I met Sherlock Holmes. </p><p>A Scandal in Belgravia from Irene Adler's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Spy

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! This fic has been swimming around my head for a couple months now, and I couldn't wait to put it into action. Any feedback is welcomed with open arms.  
> Like where things are going? I'm looking for someone to beta this work! Feel free to message me.  
> Enjoy :)

January 16th

 

“Now,” I began, “it is incredibly important that you never speak a word about this to anyone other than Kate and I.”

“I know how to do my job, Miss.”

He looked exactly how private investigators should look – average height, average looking face, brown hair and brown eyes. I had picked him specifically with the intentions of not sticking out of the ordinary. In order to come in contact with the man I was after, I needed to make every move with extreme and delicate precision. Mr. Smith was perfect for the job, and although I believed that ‘Mr. Smith’ was a false identity, I didn't care nearly enough to question it.

“I will be seeking his basic credentials today. I will have his full name, appearance, age, status and behavioral tendencies by this evening. Good day, Miss.” He stated as he exited the room.

I watched him close the door and then exhaled. When had I begun to hold my breath? This was a dangerous thing I was doing; there was no doubt about that. If my clients are right about the man I’m after, if he really is a ‘consultant criminal’ and is intellectually advanced, it would be best for my safety if I was on his good side. I got the feeling that there wasn't a large amount of space to be had on his good side, so I needed to find out what he liked.

Or, I could just talk to him... I never seemed to be good at that.

Manipulating it is, then.

Heavy with thought, I walked towards the room at the opposite end of the hallway. Upon arrival I fetched the small ring of keys I kept with me at all times and slid one of them into the lock. It opened with a _click_ and a breeze of Kate’s perfume and my own brushed passed me. In the center of the room, there was a large computer desktop that sat on top of a desk, accompanied by a sitting chair. The windows were removed because of privacy issues; I simply couldn’t have someone photographing anything that was viewed in here.

The computer came to life as I tapped the mouse key. It required 3 different sets of passwords and a finger print scan to enter the singular account that I had created. Inside, there were thousands of files that were filled to the brim with information - there were scandals, protection for myself, and anything I might find useful. This had been my insurance for quite a while now. If anyone were to find this computer or access my files, it would directly set aflame to my safety. This computer – in an actual sense – was my life.

My cursor hovered along files until it landed on one labelled _‘M’_. Inside, it branched out to hundreds of individual files, from _‘Mail Man’_ to _‘Mother’_ , but those weren’t what I was looking for. I felt the familiar breath of excitement stir within myself as the file named _‘Moriarty’_ appeared on screen. I clicked it.

The file was nearly empty, of course. There wasn’t any information about what he was like. The only information that I possessed about him was that he was the man behind the line of suicide sponsorships and that he had a large role in the smuggle ring that happened in London not too long ago. Going off of this alone, I already knew he was a handful. I also knew that I couldn’t help but admire his work after hearing about the events that played out with his sponsored cabbie and the smuggling. His mind was a work of art, in a sense. Ever since I was a child, I had always been interested in detective stories, and it was purely coincidental that I stumbled across this man who could help me set my files into action. And of course, more than anything, I wanted to see how Moriarty’s mind worked. It would take a bit of digging, but I knew that with my way of working with people, I’d have him on my side in little or no time.

 

*             *             *

 

There was a soft knock at the door and I flinched in my seat. As I was drawn back into reality, I looked at the time and realized that hours had passed – I always seemed to lose track of time in this room. I pressed the emergency shutdown button on the computer and the screen went black in a matter of seconds. I carefully opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out the small silver handgun I kept. Sometimes, my system of protection wasn’t enough to keep me safe in the moment. I could never be sure of who waited for me on the other side of the door.

I walked over to the door and pulled back on the hammer of the gun, preparing myself to take whatever precautions necessary to keep my files safe. It was absolutely necessary to exert the highest form of caution in this room. I unlocked the door and slid the chain off, letting the door swing open slowly. Kate’s alarmed and frightfully pale face met mine and I exhaled in relief, lowering my gun.

“I’m sorry darling; I didn’t mean to frighten you. You know it’s for my safety,” I apologized, shaking my head.

“I’m not afraid of your gun, Miss. Adler.” She said to me without blinking. “There’s...a message for you, downstairs on the phone.”

Her face lost the last of its colour as she dropped her gaze. I brushed past her and descended the stairs briskly, reaching for the phone that was sitting in its dock in the kitchen. Kate and I are incredibly alike, and she doesn’t get frightened too often. There was something wrong.

I pressed the button that activated the voicemail and observed the worried look on Kate’s face as she entered the kitchen and stood beside me.

“I listened to the beginning of it,” she whispered, “but it felt wrong. It’s for you.”

I returned my attention to the land line and pressed ‘play’.

 _“Hello, Miss Adler. You’ve been a wicked girl, haven’t you?”_ the voice rang through the kitchen, making my stomach flip. The voice was that of a man’s, and although it wasn’t deep, it wasn’t quite high pitched either. The way he spoke had a rough edge to it. I knew who this was.

 _“You’ve been doing a bit of sneaking around!”_ The man continued. _“It’s a bit rude, playing a game of ‘I Spy’ without telling me! Although Mr. Smith here is quite an advanced player, you forgot to tell him that I’m not too shabby myself. Right, Mr. Smith?”_ I heard a muffled sound in the background. It was definitely the Private Investigator that I hired. My pulse caught in my throat as I attempted to even out my breathing.

 _“Don’t worry; we’re just having a drink or two. Well, I am. I somehow get the feeling Mr. Smith isn’t enjoying himself as much as I seem to be.”_ He laughed to himself. The man’s voice ascended and descending in places where a regular business man’s wouldn’t. It made me uneasy.

_“Anyways, enough with the games, Irene. I know who you are now, thanks to your little P.I., and I think it’s a bit unfair that you don’t know me yet. Don’t you? Mr. Smith has been incredibly generous under pressure and has informed me of your whereabouts. Belgravia is such a lovely little part of London.”_

Kate’s hand was covering her mouth now. I stood still.

 _“How about this – let’s have a play date. Unit 44, is it? Tomorrow at noon works well for me. I can’t wait to meet you Miss Adler... By the way, it’s James Moriarty, but you can call me Jim.”_ A beep echoed through the kitchen to signify the end of the voice message.

James Moriarty. In a way, I had asked for this. He’s astonishingly brilliant, and probably has his own sort of protection. I should have known his people would discover my people were watching him.

“The private investigator is probably dead, you know.” Kate said flatly.

“That simply means he won’t need a paycheck anytime soon.” I said, trying to maintain a calm exterior. I walked away from the phone and approached the front window of the house, pulled back the white lace curtain slightly and glanced along the street. I could feel Kate gaping at me. 

“He could be dangerous, Irene. We don’t know him.” I watched Kate’s reflection in the window cross its arms as raindrops slid down the pane, racing to meet the ground. Why did it always rain in London?

“We know that he was the mastermind behind the chain of suicides and had a large part in the smuggling ring that happened recently,” I said to her. “Imagine what Mr. Moriarty could do with all of the information that we have. I want him.”

She shot me a look of disapproval.

“I’m bored, Kate. I need to misbehave.”

“I’m beginning to think that there is very little that satisfies you these days,” Kate breathed with a hint of exasperation. After looking at my face, she realized how much her words stung. She dropped her folded arms to her sides awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” she tried, “I’ll tidy the sitting room.” With that, she left.

I turned back towards the kitchen window and adjusted to how dark the streets of Belgravia had become. I felt a reoccurring feeling of isolation and tried to yank it up by its roots, but found nothing but frustration instead. The way Kate looked at me – with worry – shifted a gear within me. I could still end this project.

But no – I know I’ll become bored.  Once Moriarty comes into the picture, there will be no way to pull out of the game. Once he sees what I have, once I catch his curiosity, I won’t be able to escape him. He’ll be onto me like a bloodhound.

Yes, I must go through with this. It seems to be the only way.

 


	2. The Ice-man and The Virgin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang in there, we're in for a bumpy ride.  
> Interested in Beta-ing this work? Message me!  
> Thank you everyone for all of the support so far. x

January 17th

 

“Shade?”

“Crimson.”

I watched Kate as she applied my lipstick. Her thumb brushed against my lower lip and her forehead creased with worry-lines.

“You usually save this shade of lipstick for business inquiries,” She commented. “Is this really that important?”

“Very important, Kate.”

I paused and admired her for a brief moment as she continued to apply my makeup. Kate’s preferred shade of orange-rouge hair dye complemented her sharp facial features, and her features themselves seemed to all be in perfect proportion with one another. I looked further and noticed something else – she appeared to have aged. Sure, Kate was a couple of years younger than me, but when I hired her to be my personal assistant, her skin was devoid of any wrinkles. Now I could see deep grooves that persisted on her pale forehead as well as around her eyes, and I wondered how much sleep she got at night.

I had never completely realized how much she devoted herself to my protection and the fact that she had taken part in my drastically dangerous life for the past five years made a feeling of warmth rise in my chest.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek, unable to fully express the feeling of gratitude I had for her. She paused to shoot a questioning look at me. I was never good with these kinds of things – friends, family... Not that I had much of them left, anyways. I knew how to discover what someone liked and how to use it to my advantage – whether it was with my words or my riding crop. My business of recreational scolding left me with a type of high, but never failed to replace the euphoria with a constant dull pain after my clients had left. I had bad nights, and Kate helped a lot.

“What about the email that you got from one of your clients? The...MOD?” Kate asked, unsure.

“What about it?” the thought of that cryptic email released a wave of frustration that I half-heartedly swept away. I had spent months trying to figure out what it meant.

“Well, if Moriarty is as brilliant as you keep saying he is, maybe he could decipher it.”

I paused and looked at her with a small smile forming on my freshly painted lips. She caught on so well.

“Of course, darling.” I glanced at the clock sitting on my bedside table. _11:38am_ , it read. James Moriarty would arrive in just over twenty minutes. I hoped he wouldn’t arrive early.

I rose from my seat and walked over to the opposite side of my bedroom. I rubbed my freshly coloured lips together lightly as I opened my wardrobe doors and smiled as different fabrics brushed against my hands. I passed every colour in the spectrum until I arrived in my section of black clothing. I retrieved one of my business outfits, a tight fitting black dress with a high-rising collar that hid my collarbones. It was a beautiful piece that I had received from a dress maker in Paris, only after discovering that she was having an affair with her assistant. Naturally, I promised to keep her secret as long as she customized the dress for me, free of charge.

I put the dress on and then paused for a moment as I ran my fingertips along the zipper. Was that where this all began? It must have been. That was the first incident – or opportunity – for me to intentionally misbehave. After confronting the dress maker, it was clear that she was furious with me. Learning how to get people on your side (whether they were happy with you or not) made my heart race. I came to accept that people and I just didn’t get along. I try not to think about how things would be different if I acted otherwise.

I slipped on my jet black stilettos and descended the staircase. Kate was leaning against the front door with a look of admiration in her eyes. She had never seen me in this dress before.

“How do I look?” I asked in a sultry tone.

“Stunning, Miss Adler.” Kate spoke softly, running her eyes up and down my figure.

“Mr. Moriarty will be here shortly, fancy making us some tea?” I asked as I smoothed out my dress.

“Of course,” She walked briskly to the kitchen and I listened as she turned the kettle on.

I entered the sitting room and took my place on my chair that I spent most evenings in. I sat with my leg crossed over the other and my left arm draped across my thigh, allowing my right arm to curl upwards and rest on my left collarbone. I stared through the doorway that led to the front foyer and hardly blinked when I heard the metallic knocker rap against the door. Had ten minutes already passed?

I heard Kate make a quiet sound of surprise from the kitchen and I inhaled deeply as she made her way to the front foyer. She activated the intercom and spoke into it.

“Hello. Mr. Moriarty, is it?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Nelson.”

Kate paused for a moment, clearly stunned that he would have knowledge of her last name. I wasn’t nervous, I was prepared. I knew that in order to convince Moriarty that I was interesting enough to work with, I would need to keep a calm and unreadable exterior. Besides, this wasn’t the first time I needed to do a bit of manipulation.

“Right – I’ll let you in then.” Kate said in a shaky voice. I could tell when she was nervous, even when she was in a different room than I was.

“Splendid.” The door creaked open and I heard Kate clear her throat.

“Right this way.” Said Kate, her voice peaking with interest. Despite his unsettling impression, Moriarty must have caught her eye. A small spark of jealousy lit inside my stomach and I quickly stomped it out. His soft tread and the click of her heels echoed through the silence of the house, making their way towards the room I was sitting in. A dark haired man, about 5’8” tall and dressed impeccably well entered the room with his hands in his pockets. James Moriarty observed the room, rocking on his heels like a child with a tight grin on his face. His eyes landed on mine and I smiled, showing my teeth. I allowed him to look me over for a quick moment before rising to meet him. This part had always amused me – the _game_ of it all. We both knew we were playing, yet neither of us acknowledged it. We were chasing each other’s tails.

“Irene Adler,” I said to him in a straightforward tone, extending my hand to meet his. He may be incredibly attractive (for a man, at least), but this was purely professional.

“The Woman” he replied. “ _The_ Woman. How wonderful it is to finally meet you.” In a quick movement, he took my hand in his own and brought it to his lips, dipping his head slightly. He lifted his lips away and dropped my hand, where it fell to my side. He was watching me closely, and flitting his eyes around the room every couple of seconds. _Open expectations,_ I thought.

“James Moriarty. You can call me Jim, if you’d like.” He smirked playfully. I didn’t smile in return.

Never breaking eye contact, I motioned for him to sit down on the lush white couch directly beside him. I sat down on my own chair with my legs crossed at the heel, resting my hands on my lap. He leaned against the back of the couch and spread his arms along it with his legs crossed at the knee. He was clearly relaxed, displaying his stylishly expensive suit. Kate entered the room through the kitchen with a pot of tea, teacups on saucers and an assortment of biscuits.

“Looks delicious,” Moriarty said, adding a slight hiss to the end of his words. He bit his lower lip softly as he watched Kate place the tray on the table in front of him, and then quickly swivelled on her heel with a slight bit of colour in her cheeks, swaying her hips more than usual. Moriarty admired her figure as she departed. His eyes flicked to mine as I also watched her leave, and his features went slack as an apparent realization hit him. The corner of his mouth lifted as he reached for a biscuit, and he resigned to sitting like a normal human being.

It was beyond me how he discovered my sexual orientation so quickly. I was already impressed.

“So, Mr. Moriarty,” I began.

“Jim”, he interrupted. “Please.” His tone was more serious now.

“Jim,” I continued, “I believe I owe you an apology.” _I know that you know of the great lengths I went through to find you,_ I didn’t say aloud.

Jim searched my face and saw what I didn’t say.

“An apology? Oh honey, it was fun! Don’t you worry your pretty little mind.” _I don’t care, I found you just as quickly. Even quicker, I’d say._

“But tell me darling,” he continued, “Why didn’t you just... Oh, I don’t know...ask me on a date?” _What do you want, and why didn’t you find me sooner?_

I smiled at him.

“Well, I was a tad bit intimidated.” _I have something to show you, but I’m not sure if you’re the right man for it._

“Go on?” he persisted, adding sugar to his tea and then sipping it slowly, observing how I fidgeted with my fingers. I stopped moving them.

“I’ve heard about your involvement with the suicide sponsorships and the smuggling ring.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and placed his cup in its saucer.

“You must think so poorly of me, Miss Adler.” He said as he grimaced and shook his head, clearly not enjoying the tea. I took a sip of my own – yes, Kate had been nervous during its preparation. We both placed the saucers on the table in front of us.

“Actually, quite the opposite, Jim.” I said as I ran my forefinger down my cheekbone and across my lower lip. His eyes followed questioningly and then flicked upwards with a look that insisted I continued. He followed my finger in hopes to see what I was hiding from him, but he was not watching my lips to see what I could _do_ with them like most men typically would. Interesting.

“I am not a boring woman, you see.”

“I’ve seen your website,” he said distractedly.

 “Then you must know how much I enjoy misbehaving,” I said.

“I can’t seem to deduce what you’re trying to get at here.” He sighed. _You’re boring me, Irene._

I sat forward, resting my forearms on my knees.

“As I make my way through the world, I don’t follow the rules. I come across all sorts of things – scandals, information, even protection – and I collect it. It helps ensure that people are on my side when I need them to be.”

He leaned forward with a look of interest in his eyes.

“Blackmail...” He said quietly, and I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

“No,” I said softly, “protection.”

He returned to his relaxed position with his arms lying on the back of the couch and hummed in content. His eyes wrinkled in the corners, but his stare was somehow juvenile.

“You do all of this misbehaving and I only find out about you now? How unfortunate it is that I’ve missed out on your games for all of these years.”

I had him now. He was interested in what I had and he wanted to be a part of whatever I was going to do with it. If anything... He looked slightly envious.

“I came across an email and I was told that it was going to save the world.”

“Oh, saving the world is so boring.” Jim grunted.

“Precisely – which is why I need to know what this email is saving the world _from._ I can’t figure that out until I can decipher it.”

“Where did you get it from?” He asked, his expression suddenly becoming serious.

“There was this MOD official – I knew what he liked.” I explained. “He had a tendency to boast and ended up showing me the email. I photographed it without his knowledge.”

“You naughty girl,” He said, licking his lips. 

“I even had one of the best cryptographers in the country attempt to figure it out. No such luck.”

“If you’re going to ask me to have a go at it, forget it.” He remarked. “I don’t like getting my hands dirty.” He lifted his hands in the air as if he needed to prove that they were clean.

“Jim, I have all of this information, and I simply don’t know what to do with it.” I said, adding an annoyed edge to my voice. _Help me._

“Miss Adler, I never said I wasn’t going to help you. I’m a consultant criminal, it’s what I do and I _love_ it. I just might add another player or two to the game, if you don’t mind.” He looked up at me through his thick eyelashes.

“It depends on who these players might be.”

“There is a man,” Jim began sounding exasperated, “who has a position of power in the British Parliament that I would very much like to demolish. His name is Mycroft Holmes.”

“Does he have a taste in recreational scolding?” I purred. He scoffed.

“I doubt it, although it could help him relax a little. I call him ‘The Ice Man’, and rightfully so. I have been attempting to come in contact with him without raising suspicion, but I believe he is becoming increasingly wary. His younger brother, Sherlock Holmes, was actively involved in putting an end to the chain of suicides and the smuggling ring. I assume that you can put two and two together and see how smart the Holmes family can be.” He exhaled, and I nodded slowly.

“I assume you have a perky nickname for Mycroft’s younger brother, then.” I tested.

“’The Virgin’. Rightfully so.” He smirked, and I smiled again.

“Both Mycroft and Sherlock are utterly brilliant” he continued, “but only Sherlock decided to actually make a profit out of it. They use what’s called ‘The Science of Deduction’ to observe details that ordinary people might not notice. He calls himself a ‘consulting detective – the only one in the world’.” His hands flared up dramatically in quotation marks at the mention of Sherlock’s profession.

“Sounds familiar,” I commented.

“Well, what came first?” He inquired. “The chicken or the egg?”

I smiled at his analogy.

“So, what you’re trying to say is that Sherlock could potentially decipher my code?”

“Bingo,” Jim sung. “Sherlock loves to play, and as long as he believes that he’s doing it to impress someone, he’ll dance for you as long as you’d like. He’s got a bit of an ego that way.”

“I had no intention of meeting him for tea and shoving the email in his face,” I said, boring my gaze into Jim. “I need to introduce myself to him first. Like an ice-breaker.” I explained.

“Of course,” He agreed, popping a biscuit into his mouth. “Anything in mind?”

I bit my lip for a moment. I hadn’t thought to come up with a scenario for something like this – I had only just heard of Sherlock and Mycroft moments ago. It sounded like I would be able to create a large amount of leverage when it came to toying with Mycroft Holmes if I was given the chance, but for some reason, I was drawn to Sherlock. Maybe I had a thing for detectives.

“I can assure you that I will find a way.”

“I’m sure you will, Miss Adler.” Jim stared. _Don’t be boring or you’ll get nothing from Daddy._

My fingernails subtly dug into the arm of the chair while my excitement began to rise simultaneously. Jim sensed my lack of fear and smiled.

 “Well Irene, it’s been a pleasure, but I have a bit of playing around to do now.”

I shot him a questioning look which he promptly ignored.

“Kate, get me my coat, would you?” He smiled at Kate flirtatiously and started to walk to the front foyer, and I trailed behind. She held his coat up for him as he slipped his arms into it and then turned around to face her.

“Thanks for the tea,” He said, standing a little closer to her than he needed to.

“Not a problem,” she said breathlessly. I pursed my lips.

“Miss Adler,” He nodded, “Keep in touch, darling.”

Jim Moriarty walked through the door and made his way down the stairs towards the car that was waiting for him.

“Ta-ta!” He sang as he climbed in the back seat. The slick black car’s engine roared to life and took Jim Moriarty down Belgravia. I watched until the car turned and disappeared out of sight.

I sighed as I made my way back into the house, took off my stilettos, and ascended the stairs towards the locked room at the end of the hall. Once upstairs, I slipped out of my dress and hung it on the banister, knowing that Kate would have the good sense to put it back in my wardrobe when she saw it. I pushed the key into the lock and entered the room, staring at the computer.

I proceeded to log on and add two folders to my index, one labelled _‘Mycroft Holmes’_ and the other labelled _‘Sherlock Holmes’_. I stared at Mycroft’s file for a while before opening up the younger brother’s.

 _‘Consulting detective – The only one in the world (?)’_ I typed. _‘Could be fun.’_


	3. Brick Walls and Waterfalls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! The pace will pick up quite soon. 
> 
> Excerpts used from the BBC Sherlock Homes blog (http://www.thescienceofdeduction.co.uk/) and the BBC John Watson blog (http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/).

March 25th

 

“You’ve been quiet,” Kate mumbled.

I was sitting at the head of my oversized kitchen table with my fingers wrapped around my cup of tea. I lifted it to my lips to take a sip, but it had gone cold. I sighed.

“Waiting drives me insane.”

“I know,” she said with a sympathetic smile. She seemed to have forgiven me after the meeting with Moriarty went well. After a couple of quiet moments, she departed the kitchen to find something to occupy her with. Kate never dealt with the silence very well - she always seemed to have some sort of music playing in her room, and I wondered if there was a reason for her uneasiness.

I ran my fingers through my thin hair, still slightly damp from the shower I had taken hours before. It had been months since I had last met with Jim Moriarty, and I mulled over the brief conversation that we had almost every day. I had several clients a week, but I simply couldn’t keep my mind off of what he said. I knew that when he said ‘keep in touch’, he meant that he only wanted to hear from me when I had something of importance to tell him. He seemed to be narcissistic like that.

I spent most of my days updating three separate files – Jim Moriarty, Mycroft Holmes and Sherlock Holmes – with anything that I could think of that might be useful. So far I had several of Moriarty’s behavioural traits catalogued, but nothing regarding the Holmes brothers. I did a search on Sherlock shortly after my ‘play date’ with Moriarty and discovered his website, _‘The Science of Deduction’_. According to him, The Science of Deduction includes the following steps:

  1. _Observe everything._
  2. _From what you observe, you deduce everything._
  3. _When you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how mad it might seem, must be the truth._



Mr. Sherlock Holmes might even be a bigger narcissist than Jim Moriarty. He came across as being incredibly condescending, yet clever. I wanted him.

“Irene!” Kate giggled from her room. “Come see this, it might be important!”

I heaved myself out of my chair and ascended the stairs towards her room. I found her lying on her bed on her stomach with her feet in the air behind her, smiling at something on her laptop. Kate was astonishingly talented at interior design, and she took it upon herself to make her room look beyond presentable. Her bed took up a large portion of space, but it wasn’t overwhelming. I always seemed to take a moment to admire her handiwork when I visited her.

“Look at this,” she smiled, swivelling her laptop around so I could bend down and see.

“The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson,” I read aloud.

I skimmed through the body of writing she was currently reading, and froze when I saw a name that had been running through my head for months. This man, John Watson, knew Sherlock Holmes. John was a retired army doctor recently returned from Afghanistan, and his display photo showed the hint of a hollow look in his eyes.

“Do you know this man?” I inquired.

“John Watson? He used to date one of my girlfriends from high school. She shared his blog on her own blog. He knows Sherlock, you know.” She said, raising her eyebrows.

_‘So, last night I went to look at the flat.’_ John wrote.‘ _It's pretty decent actually. Sherlock had already moved in so it was a bit of a mess but that’s actually a nice change from where I was before’_

That’s nice, John. Tell me about Sherlock.

_‘And the madman himself? He's fascinating. Arrogant, imperious, pompous. He's not safe, I know that much. I'm not going to be bored and I doubt we're going to be arguing about whose turn it is to pay the gas bill or what we're going to watch on the telly. And yeah, he is probably most likely definitely mad.’_

This could be useful. If I searched the entire blog post-by-post, I could get to know Sherlock. This blog post was posted on the 31st of January, so John has probably gotten to know him fairly well by now. I just needed to spend some time with it.

“You’re the best, Kate,” I said, squeezing her hand.

“I am?”

“Absolutely.” I said as I practically ran back to my computer. 

 

*             *             *

 

March 29th

 

Considering that nothing had really happened yet, excluding the discovery of John Watson’s blog, things were becoming a tad bit overwhelming. I seemed to think of nothing but Moriarty and the Holmes boys, and I felt as if my actual brain was going stale from sitting in that room. I needed some ‘ _good ol’ vitamin D,’_ according to Kate. She was adorable, and she seemed to forget that it was unlikely that I’d get any of that in London. Luckily, safety wasn’t as big of a concern in Belgravia, so I had no second thoughts when I left unit 44 in a pair of trainers and a jumper.

I had no intention of going very far; I wasn’t athletic in the slightest sense but I did appreciate a good walk now and then. Because of my protection, I wasn’t acquainted with any of my neighbors and likely never would be. Besides, they all seem to keep to themselves, which is good I suppose. The last thing I need are nosy neighbors.

Kate was right. After being outside I felt notably better, even if London didn’t have the most pleasant of skies. As I walked, I began to think about Moriarty and what he had said.

_‘Keep in touch.’_...as soon as I had something that he wanted.

What did Jim Moriarty want? He was a bored man, constantly looking to play – hence why he was so excited when he learned about my files. I felt as if every day that I didn’t contact him, I was losing him out of my grasp. Overall, I decided, he wanted Mycroft. I couldn’t quite figure out why, other than that Mycroft has quite a bit of influential power, but if he’s what Moriarty wants then I won’t argue.

I needed to gain control over Mycroft Holmes. I needed something that will make him squirm in his over-priced business suit.

Interrupting my thoughts, my mobile began to buzz in my pocket. It was just a plain phone that I only used to come in contact with my clients. I pulled it out and looked at the caller I.D. – it was blocked. I answered anyways, as my clients often prefer to remain anonymous.

“Irene Adler speaking.”

“Good afternoon Miss Adler.” Said the voice on the other end of the line. It was a young woman speaking with a soft English accent.

“Good afternoon. May I help you?” I inquired, attempting to identify the speaker.

“Indeed. I’ve just been on your website, and I would very much like to make an appointment.”

“Lovely. Do you have a preferred date?” I asked while continuing to search for her identity in my memory. She sounded incredibly familiar.

“Tomorrow at noon, if it is possible. I don’t exactly have a flexible schedule.”

“Not a problem,” I replied smoothly. “We will discuss a rate in person. Do you have any questions?”

“Not at all. Thank you.”  She hung up.

I held my mobile against my cheek for a brief moment as I let the young woman’s voice echo through my ears again.

I paused completely as the pieces seemed to fit together. I knew who she was. Who wouldn’t? She was proper, she was royalty, and she had an appointment for recreational scolding tomorrow at noon.

I laughed silently at the thought. I often had clients of higher class which required the utmost professionalism and secrecy, but never had I beaten anyone of the royal family. This was going to be interesting. This was–

_Oh my word, I’m brilliant._

I smiled ridiculously as a plan unfurled in my mind; I knew what I needed to do in order to interest Moriarty again. Mycroft’s pressure point was most definitely his work, and I had just made an extremely erotic appointment with one of the highest levels of power in his field.  

Except, I needed proof that I was _with_ royalty in such a compromising situation. I needed to make him panic when he realizes that this could leak out to the public. I always remained loyal to my clients by swearing to secrecy, but what if I _didn’t_? That would be a lovely little seed of doubt to plant in the clever brain of Mr. Holmes. He’d worry himself into insanity. In addition, I’d be stirring up quite a bit of trouble in Buckingham Palace. Isn’t that every girls’ dream?

I could take photos without her knowledge, but I don’t exactly have hidden cameras in my room, or any camera small enough for that matter. I decided to go to Kate for advice.

I was still smiling as I practically jogged up the stairs to my front door, humming in content. It was strange how after all of these years of misbehaving, I still found such a thrill in it. Suddenly, I paused as I reached for the door knob.

The door was already open a crack, and there was paint missing from the door frame. It looked like it had been removed due to a bad pick-locking job. Just inside, the carpet that was usually placed just in front of the door had moved a foot or two and looked as if it had been kicked out of the way. My pulse began to quicken.

Someone was here.

I silently slipped off my trainers and crept through the sitting room and into the kitchen to retrieve one of the small silver pistols I kept hidden around the house. I paused again and listened for any signs of the intruder. Other than the pulse in my ears, there was nothing.

This meant that Kate was either hurt, dead, or taken.

I crept around the corner and pressed myself into the doorway that led from the sitting room to the front foyer. I allowed myself to peer up the stairs and glimpse along the hall, to no avail. I needed to go up there to clear all of the rooms.

I skipped every second step and only stepped on the outside of each stair to avoid creaking; I couldn’t afford to give my position away. I reached the top of the stairs and swivelled my head around quickly, finding nobody. I glanced towards Kate’s room. Even though from where I was standing her door frame was mostly blocking my view, I could just see her outstretched forearm lying on the ground. At this point, she was either unconscious or dead.

After looking in each of the bathrooms, my bedroom, my walk-in wardrobe and the extra guestroom, I rushed to tend to Kate. I sighed in relief when I found her pulse still actively beating away. Around her head lay a halo of blood, and my stomach began to turn. It shouldn’t be so easy for someone to break into our home.

Since Kate is clearly taller, broader, and generally bigger than me, I didn’t even attempt to lift her into her bed. She’d probably yell at me for getting _her_ blood on her duvet, knowing her... If she lives through this, that is. I decided that was a painful thought.

I left the room to go fetch what I needed to give her medical attention. The attacker obviously left, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. My protection was useless when I wasn’t in a close enough range to use it. I returned to Kate with various supplies and a cool face cloth, hoping to help her come-to. I lifted her deadweight head and placed gauze where she was attacked, then placed her head back down atop of a pillow. It was eerie how calm and precise my movements were, considering I felt a hurricane of emotion inside. This was what my protection did to people.

Who was trying to access my files?

I sighed as I dabbed Kate’s forehead with the cloth; she would be okay.

I sat like this for a long time, running my fingertip along her jawline. Finally, she began to stir and I watched her closely.

“Irene...” Kate mumbled with her eyes still closed.

“I’m right here, darling.”

“There’s someone here...your protection...isn’t safe...” She teetered on the edge of unconsciousness again.

“Everything’s safe, Kate. You’re okay now, there’s nobody here. You need to wake up.” I said to her, effectively maintaining a veil of calmness.

Kate slowly propped herself up on her forearms and peered at me through half-lidded eyes. I admired how she willfully listened to me.

“Did somebody hit me?” She asked, her eyes welling up. She didn’t appear to be upset enough to cry.

“It seems like it. I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“It’s okay,” She muttered. She brought her hand up to the back of her head and let out a quiet hiss when it came in contact.

“Please don’t take me to the hospital,” Kate begged.

“You haven’t lost that much blood,” I explained. “You might feel dizzy for a while. Here, drink this.” I passed her the glass of water that I had brought in earlier. She sat up fully and sipped it, looking like a wounded child.

Kate placed the glass down on the carpet beside her as a dark expression began to form on her face. She dropped her gaze and pursed her lips.

“This is too dangerous, Irene.”

“Look – Kate, we’ve been through hardships like these before –“

_“I could have died!”_ She suddenly yelled, startling me. She looked back at me with fire in her eyes. She had definitely come-to, that’s for sure. I had to tread carefully to avoid a conflict.

“I never meant for this to happen.” I said, reaching for her hand. She yanked it away.

“Of course you didn’t, you never do. But this protection of yours comes at a cost – my safety! Do you ever stop to wonder why you don’t have anyone else in your life? You are _dangerous,_ Irene, and anyone who dares to come close to you is only going to get burnt. You set fires everywhere you go.”

I began to realize that Kate was holding back her feelings about this for quite some time and I felt the backs of my eyes begin to prick and burn. I tried to think of the last time I had cried, but I couldn’t seem to remember.

“I do this because I care about you,” Kate’s voice cracked. “I care so much that it’s always me getting hurt. You’re a fucking brick wall, Irene! All you do is sit in that room and stalk people like a... like a _freak._ It’s not _normal._ ”

That stung.

“Kate, please, take a deep breath, think about what you’re saying -”

“I know exactly what I’m saying! God, you drive me insane. You know what? Just – get out of here.”

I looked at her and watched as tears fell freely from her eyes. I envied the simplicity of her emotions.

“ _Leave!”_ She screamed hoarsely, beginning to sob. I rose from my knees and left her room, attempting to block out the sounds of her shaky voice as she whimpered. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it as I felt tears begin to finally pool in my eyelids. It was insane what this woman could do to me. I hadn’t felt anything this painful in years, and I felt as if I was holding my full weight against a set of flood gates. I couldn’t afford to lose it now.

Through watery eyes, I looked towards my protection room, the room that caused seemingly all of my problems. There was a thought that lingered in the back of my mind after searching the house that kept resurfacing itself.

There was nothing stolen.

I knew every item that was present in my house. I liked to know what was placed where, and whenever something disappeared, I knew about it. And yet, after checking every room, it came to my attention that everything was where it should be, even though we had just encountered a break in.

I looked back to my protection room once again and my muscles tensed.

From where I was standing, I could clearly see scuffs and scratches around the look on the door. How did I miss that before?

I strode towards the door as I broke into a cold sweat. I crouched until I was eye-level with the lock, investigating it thoroughly. The door was fully closed and didn’t seem to have been opened. Still unsure, I unlocked the door and ran to the computer. It hadn’t been touched. The intruder hadn’t entered this room.

I was utterly confused. They had managed to pick lock the front door, yet couldn’t get past this lock. I paced in front of the doorway, beginning to panic. This was too close for comfort. I was lazy and careless – why on earth did I believe that a simple lock would stop someone? I needed to take better precautions to ensure the safety of my files. I couldn’t let this happen again.

I paused in the doorway of the room with my head leaned against the frame. What stopped them? Why did they abandon this room? It was the only locked room in the house; I’d come here first if I was an intruder, too.

Suddenly, I heard water filling Kate’s bath and it all made sense. The intruder must have heard me come home, and fled at the sound of my arrival. I guess I wasn’t as silent as I thought I was.

But where had they fled to? They couldn’t have run down the stairs and out the door – I had closed the front door behind me, and would have heard their departure. I took a couple steps forward and swivelled around to look at the door, trying to place myself in their shoes. Immediately, I looked to my right and found the spare bathroom that was located beside my protection room. Inside, the window that was large enough to fit a single person was wide open, allowing the lace curtains to dance in the breeze. I rushed over and gripped the ledge, and then stuck my head out the window. Down the block, a man with sandy blonde hair in a black suit and an ear piece communicator climbed into a blacked-out car. As he lowered himself inside, he briefly locked eyes with me.

I needed to talk to Kate.


	4. A New Era

March 29th \- _evening_

 

It had been four hours since we had an intruder break into our home and leave almost everything untouched. I sat on the edge of my bed for most of the time, waiting for what would be an appropriate time to go and talk to Kate.

I sat. I paced. I pressed the side of my head up to the wall that separated our rooms.

She had been quiet for a while now, and I hadn’t heard her drain her bath water yet. I decided she would be a little more inviting after she had a moment to relax.

I opened my door slowly to avoid the loud creaking noise it would make. Even though Kate probably knew I would try to talk to her, I somehow wanted to add an element of surprise, if it was possible. I tread softly along the carpet that stretched along the hall.

Arriving at her slightly opened door, I pushed it open an inch wider allowing enough space for me to search the room. She wasn’t lying on her bed or sitting at her desk as she usually was, and I was slightly taken aback. I pushed her door open further and walked in, immediately seeing her clothes crumpled on the floor in the entrance to her bathroom. I cringed – her blouse and skirt surely had mounds of wrinkles imprinted in them.

I approached the bathroom doorway with a hint of uncertainty in my step, wrapping my arms around my torso in an insecure stance. I paused upon arrival, and watched as she lifted her cheek out of her palm to look at me. From the aroma that was still present in the air, she had immersed herself in a bubble bath hours earlier. Now, the bubbles had all disintegrated and the opaque water that surrounded her curvaceous body had turned into a pale shade of lavender. I have seen Kate naked before and I learned to observe her beauty in silence. She hadn’t come to terms with her sexuality, and that was something I was willing to accept. Besides, I saw naked figures more often than most. It wasn’t exactly something to be alarmed of.

I bent down and picked up her crumpled clothing, smoothed out the folds and hung it on the hooks that were mounted beside her closet. I re-entered the bathroom and sat down on the closed toilet cover beside her bath tub. She turned away.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” I said, cracking my voice for emphasis. “I don’t know if I’m capable of expressing how bad I feel.”

She was quiet for a moment and seemed to be deep in thought. The silence enveloped us for the first time without Kate being eager to break it.

“You were right,” I laughed bleakly, “whoever it was, was after my protection. They left marks all over the door when they were trying to break the lock.”

Still no response. I sighed.

“Look, Kate, what I do is a dangerous thing. I know that. I have come to accept that I am a dangerous person. I will never be able to live a normal life with you, and I will never be satisfied. I don’t know why I’m like this, but I do know that I have been incredibly lucky to live with someone like you. I understand if you want to leave.” I dropped my gaze and held my breath, preparing myself to get up and leave the room.

Kate looked up at me with tears welling in her eyes again. As I stood to go, she lifted her hand out of the tub and placed it on my knee, splashing a trail of water as she moved. I felt the icy water soak through my dressing gown, and wondered how Kate’s lips hadn’t turned blue yet.

“I’m not going anywhere, Irene.” She said with tearful eyes.

“You were nearly killed,” I argued, even though I knew she wouldn’t go.

“I was _scared,_ ” She whispered. “Just don’t question it. I’m staying. Please just accept that.”

I nodded and smiled weakly.

“You must be getting cold,” I observed.

“Yeah, well, I was waiting for you to come in and make your grand apology.” We both laughed together, and things seemed to feel right again.

“And did it suffice, your highness?” I teased.

“Yes, peasant. Fetch me a towel, we are _not_ amused!” she laughed harder as she mocked the queen.

I stood up and passed her a white, fluffy towel as she climbed out of the tub. I gave her privacy as she dried herself off, but felt a fresh wave of excitement as I remembered the phone call I had received while I was out walking.

“Speaking of royalty,” I said, biting my lip, “Guess who booked an afternoon session for tomorrow.”

Kate stopped wrapping the towel around her for a moment and stared at me with wide eyes.

“No,” she mumbled, “You’re lying.”

“If you’re thinking that the Queen of England booked the session, you need to get your head out of the gutter.” I giggled.

“Hey,” she shrugged. “When living with you, I learn to expect the unexpected. Who is it, a princess? Which one?”

“You should know. She always had a thing for leather.” I tried to say with a straight face as I skipped out of the bathroom.

“You’re so cruel!” She teased, hollering from the bathroom. I leapt on top of her bed and crossed my legs like a child. She followed me into her room, dropped her towel into her hamper and covered herself in a dressing gown of her own.

“You’re serious then,” she said excitedly as she hopped onto the bed beside me.

“Completely.” I smiled. “And if that isn’t exciting enough, I realized what I needed to do to interest Moriarty again.”

“Mmm?” She questioned as she began to comb through her hair with her fingers.

“Mycroft Holmes works for the British government,” I said as a smile grew on my lips.

“You’re a terrible person!” Kate laughed again, quickly catching onto my plans.

“Hey, at least I can admit it. If I could somehow prove that I was with her and make them believe that I _could_ let this evidence leak, then I would be in a position to negotiate a higher form of protection for myself.”

“I guess we need to figure out how to collect evidence, then.” Kate said. Her eyelashes had tiny pearls of water on them still, and I couldn’t help but appreciate her further.

“Precisely. I was thinking – hidden cameras? But it’s far too late in the evening to have them installed...” I thought out loud.

“What about a camera phone? Could that work?” Her excitement was evident. It was pure corruption, I swear.

“My god... You’re brilliant, Kate.” I stood up and paced in front of her. “Not only would that help me take discreet photos, but I could transfer all of my files on to it.”

“Why would you want to do that?” She inquired.

“Don’t you see? I could have it in my possession at all times if I wanted to. My protection would no longer be chained down to this house,” I explained. “This would make everything so much easier. A new era is beginning.”

“We could even install an armed safe somewhere in the house as well.” Kate offered. “That way, when you’re home, you needn’t worry about keeping track of it.”

“Absolutely! This is perfect. Come on – let’s go!” I grabbed her hand and yanked her off the bed.

“To the stores at this hour? In our _dressing gowns_?” She giggled.

“We can throw a jumper on, I suppose.” I smirked. “Hurry, Kate!”

“You’re diabolical,” She sighed, still smiling.

“You love it.” I bit my lower lip while grinning, now looking up at her. My hands warmed her chilly fingers.

She stared at me with a look that I grew to recognize as meaning _‘this feels right’._ Kate placed her hand on my waist and pulled me in for a light brush of the lips, lingering for a moment before slowly pulling away.

When I looked her in the eyes again, there was a quick shimmer of something. It was only there for a millisecond, but it was there. I saw guilt.

Before I could analyze it any further, I ran to my room to change and Kate and I were pulling onto the street in a matter of minutes.

 

*             *             *

 

Kate was watching me in the rear view mirror. Her eyes didn’t express distaste or admiration – she just glanced at me every couple of seconds. It was on the verge of being unsettling, so I turned my attention to the streets of London.

We had already gone to the closest mobile retailer and charmed our way into getting a decently priced phone. Not that the price was an issue, of course. I made it incredibly clear to the clerk that we needed a high-security camera phone that could hold the information of a life time. We walked out of there with one of the newest models, and I buzzed with excitement.

Now we were pulling in to Belgravia, and Kate’s eyes were focused on the road. As she rolled to a halt next to our unit, I smiled at her via the rear view mirror, attempting to say thank you for driving me. She smiled briefly, and then exited the car to let me out.

As we entered the house, we left all of the lights off. It had been a long day, and I could tell that we both desired to retire to our beds. I climbed the stairs behind Kate, and paused at the top of the stairs as she continued to her room. As she reached the doorway, she turned her face slightly to look at me.

“Good night, Irene.” She breathed. Why was I reading so much guilt on her?

“Sweet dreams, Kate.”

She entered her room and closed the door behind her, and all at once I felt an impaling feeling of... emptiness. There was one thing I needed to do before I went to bed myself. I walked to my protection room and unlocked the door; I couldn’t leave my files on this computer for another second longer.

I connected the USB cord to the computer and the phone, running installments and basic set-up tasks. After some fiddling, the files began to download. I watched blankly as they flew by in alphabetical order, reminiscing on a couple of circumstances that allowed me to obtain all of this protection.

Reminiscing was not the right word. _Remembering._ I _remembered_ how the CEO of my bank crumbled as I set down the pile of photos in front of him. I _remembered_ how my school teachers used to look at me as if I was a grenade that could potentially explode at any given time. Had they known who I was before I realized myself?

Names of files flew by. _Harold Martin, Howard Lim, Jamie Arnott..._

The depth of lies I had dug myself into made a familiar unsettling feeling rise to the surface of my throat.

_Jason Dean, John Watson..._

Where was I before all of this? I was here of course, with Mother and Grandmother, I knew that. I always wanted to get away from this place.

_Jillian Irwin, Jordan Stevenson..._

In the end, it was Mother who crawled out of Belgravia. I was the one who stayed behind.

_Joanna Reed, Justice Thames..._

Grandmother on the kitchen floor with a warning carved into the back of her hand. Her head was not shaped right.

_Kate Nelson..._

The guilt that lurked behind Kate’s eyes as she pulled away from my lips. Why did she pull away so quickly? The file transfer program lingered on this particular file, as there was so much information inside.

There was a lot to know about Kate. There was the way she froze when presented with danger and the injuries she has suffered in the past, but there was also the way she liked her tea. There was her blog’s website, her favourite programmes on the telly, and the songs that she sings most frequently in the shower.

Every other file I had organized contained at least one pressure point to target – Kate’s did not.

It was time to go to bed – my thoughts were never logical after 12am.

 

*             *             *

 

March 30th

Kate always managed to start her day before I did. I rolled over in my sheets, coming to focus on the mobile that sat on my bedside table. It was 8:42am, and I had a very important client today.

I was not in the mood for clothing today, it seemed. As I entered the kitchen, the scent of fresh baking delighted my senses and I inhaled deeply. Kate no longer startled at my nakedness, and instead has begun to improve on eye contact. I appreciate her acceptance constantly.

As I sat with my fresh cuppa, Kate pulled out the tray of homemade biscuits that had been deliciously baking in the oven. It definitely wasn’t a requirement for her job, but she had nervously brought up the subject in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

_“Irene,” she had begun hesitantly. “I was just wondering about something.”_

_“Of course dear,” I had said, hardly looking up from the paperwork I had neatly organized on top of the table. “What is it?”_

_“I was wondering if, you know, you’d be okay if I did some...baking.”_

_I looked up, observing the way my assistant was nervously standing at the other end of the table. Kate had only been working with me for one year at that point and she was never more than a stranger bustling around the house. She didn’t have her own room yet, either. Somehow, the idea of her humming melodies while rolling out and beating dough seemed much more personal than dusting the shelves. I allowed myself to study her closer and observed the way her hair curved around her jaw neatly and how the clear, lively skin beneath her eyes shone magnificently._

_“Of course, Kate. Use whatever you’d like.” I smiled at her, causing her to relax._

_The next morning, a single fresh scone sat on a plate on my bedside table. Kate moved in a month later._

“Have a bad sleep last night? You’re awfully zoned out,” Kate suddenly said, pulling me out of the fond memory. She had placed the biscuits on a cooling rack and was beginning to clean up.

I looked at her eyes now – the once lively gaze she had a year ago was replaced by a slightly sunken look, and my attention returned to the persistent worry lines on her forehead.

Was I unhealthy for her? I pushed away the thought quicker than it arrived.

“Just thinking, as per usual.” _About us,_ I didn’t say.

“Your appointment is at noon?”

“Correct.”

“Do we have a game plan?” she said with her back to me.

“When we reach the height of our appointment, I’ll need you to enter the room and discreetly photograph my client and I in revealing and hopefully compromising situations. Make sure the phone’s ringer is turned off,” I reminded her.

“Not a problem,” She replied. She was quiet for the rest of the morning.

I busied myself with simple preparations for this appointment. My client hadn’t classified her preferred type of scolding, so it was likely that she hadn’t the slightest clue herself. I prepared a wide variety of materials just in case.

I dressed myself in my sheer lace dress that managed to hide nothing at all. It wouldn’t stay on for long, anyways. I hoped that this particular client wouldn’t have a fetish for ripping clothing like the last one. I had to charge him an extra fee for utterly destroying one of my favourite outfits, and I got the feeling he wouldn’t be returning. His loss.

About an hour later, the sound of the knocker resonated throughout the house. I studied myself once more in the mirror, assessing my professionalism. For this client I needed to be in absolute control, but also needed to get her worked up enough to have her photographed without her knowledge. This could prove to be difficult.

I lounged into Kate’s room to stay out of sight as she welcomed my client into the front foyer, where Kate would assist her in signing safety wavers. Eventually, I would hear the pair of footsteps make their way up the stairs and into my room. Once there, Kate would secure my client to my bed as per protocol, and I would enter when I deemed it appropriate. I heard everything take place and then pulled out my mobile.

“Hello?” Jim Moriarty answered, sounding confused and slightly aggravated.

“Hello, Jim, darling. Is this a bad time?”

“Yes, of course it is. What do you want?” I paused for a moment before answering.

“I can give you Mycroft Holmes.” I said slowly, a smile playing across my lips.

“SAY THAT AGAIN!” Jim yelled, his voice echoing in the large room he must have been in. Was that water I could hear?

“Right where you want him...” I toyed, running my blood red painted nails along the banister in front of me.

“Say that again, and know that if you are lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you.” He spoke slowly.

“But... I need Sherlock.” He was the only one who could decipher my code. From the sound of him in John Watson’s blog entries, I could easily manipulate him into helping me.

“Wait,” He said, and I paused. He appeared to have muted me. What was he up to?

His returned a few moments later.

“So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don’t, I’ll make you into shoes.”

“Oh please, Jim, I thought you’d have more trust in me by now.”

“Trust? I haven’t heard from you in months.”

“I was playing around,” I explained. “What were you doing just now?”

“Playing around,” Jim said sharply. “When do you need Sherlock?”

“In order for him to be called in to investigate the scandal I’ve set up, I’ll need him to gain popularity. Let’s wait awhile.”

“Scandal?” Moriarty questioned. “What have you got up your dainty little sleeves?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” I hung up before he could reply.

I lowered my mobile and rested it on the banister for a moment before focusing my attention on my room in front of me. It was time to begin. I approached the door and observed the princess as I entered the doorway.

“Well now,” I began in a sultry tone. “Have you been _wicked,_ your highness?” I spoke smoothly, snapping my riding crop for emphasis.

“Yes, Miss Adler.” She said, a smile creeping across her lips as she spoke.


End file.
